


I Want To Come Home To You

by AudreyBlanche



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: But I regret nothing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, I just needed my boys to be okay, M/M, Minor Character Death (Mentioned), post 1X12, super cheesy at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 15:44:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10879911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AudreyBlanche/pseuds/AudreyBlanche
Summary: A little fix-it for what happened after the kids find Mustang.Joaquin deals with everything crumbling around him in the only way he knows how: running away. But leaving doesn't make him feel better and sometimes coming home means hoping there will be someone waiting.





	I Want To Come Home To You

**Author's Note:**

> Meeting a girl that reminded me too much of my ex kinda fucked me up, so I decided to fix the only thing I actually could.  
>    
> Oh yeah, I made some assumptions here, like that Joaquin has a motorcycle and that Mustang had been killed. No idea if any of that is actually true. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Joaquin practically runs from Mustang's room. For a while he's thought it couldn't get worse than Kevin going all cold on him, but now-

He couldn't stay here. If they found Mustang they would find him too.

Kevin catches up to him at the bottom of the stairs. “Where are you going?”

“I have to leave,” Joaquin only says, heading straight for his bike, suddenly incredibly glad he hadn't accepted the offer to ride with the others.

“But... why?” Kevin asks and Joaquin looks at him for the first time since he stormed out. Kevin is paler than usual, his eyes still wide and haunted.

“Because if I stay, I will end up like Mustang,” he almost shouts, his voice cracking slightly and he hates how shaken he is. He should be better at dealing with this. Should be calmer.

“What? Why? Why would you overdose? You don't do drugs! ...Do you?”

And it's ridiculous how much it hurts to hear that little bit of uncertainty, that sliver of fear in Kevin's voice. He is so done. He needs to get out of here.

He grips his helmet too tightly, before pulling it on, straddles his bike and kicks the brakes out from underneath. Kevin still stands rooted to the floor, looking lost and confused and Joaquin hates that he cannot just leave him standing there. He grabs the other helmet off of the backseat and throws it at Kevin. The helmet hits the boy hard in the chest, is probably going to leave a bruise and for a second Joaquin is glad that something is going to stay here with Kevin when he cannot.

“Get on. We really need to be gone.”

Kevin throws one last look back at where his friends are probably still waiting for the police to show up while he puts on the helmet, then gets on the bike behind Joaquin. He wraps his arms around the other boy too tightly, but Joaquin doesn't complain. One of his hands ends up over Joaquin's heart and it is weirdly calming to feel the steady beat under his fingers as Joaquin tears out of the parking lot.

 

Joaquin is freezing when they arrive at the trailer park. He should have closed his jacket, but it had felt so good to feel Kevin's touch. He'd wanted to memorize it as much as possible. They both stumble a bit when they dismount, their cold limbs stiff and unyielding.

“Wait here. I'll just grab some things, I'll be right back,” Joaquin says and storms over to his trailer without looking if Kevin stays put. Once inside Joaquin can feel the hot prickling of tears and he angrily wipes them from his eyes. He gathers a few essentials and the few things he actually cares about. His favorite jacket, the gun he stuffed under his pillow, the box with memorabilia from his parents that he keeps underneath his bed. He throws more clothes and some canned food on top, before zipping the bag up. He keeps rubbing away more tears.

He throws the jacket with the Serpent logo onto his bed. No need in taking it with him where he's going. It will not offer any protection there and just bring him more trouble. Throwing the bag over his shoulder, he makes for the door only to run into one of the cabinets he left open after grabbing some stuff. He curses. And suddenly the rage is boiling over and he kicks the door with all his strength, making it fly across the floor. Pain flares up in his foot and he goes down like a puppet whose strings have been cut.

God fucking dammit!

The tears are now flowing freely, a sob lodges itself in his throat. He had just started to figure out a way to keep everything from blowing up in his face and then Mustang had to go and get himself dead. Fucking fuck!

Something knocks against the door to his trailer and he only has a second before the door is opening to furiously rub over his face. He knows it will be Kevin and he buys himself a few more seconds by getting up with his back to his boyfriend.

And sure enough, there Kevin is, worry written all over his face. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“Fine,” he rasps, the word more breath than sound, and hopes it will be good enough. Brusquely he pushes past the taller boy, grabbing his bag and heads for his bike again. Kevin follows him quietly and gets back on as soon as Joaquin is kicking the stand away.

Joaquin conveniently forgets to button up his jacket once more. And if Kevin's hands keep roaming as if he's trying to memorize him too, then Joaquin will be the last person to say anything about that.

 

Joaquin's lips are still tingling from his last kiss with Kevin when he sits down in the back of the bus. He hopes Kevin will show Jason's jacket to his dad so that he can be safe and this nightmare can be over for at least one of them. Joaquin knows how to survive, knows how to get himself out of situations he shouldn't be in, but Kevin doesn't seem as experienced in this and Joaquin was helpless against that insistent voice in his head that wants to give Kevin puppies and sunshine and happy endings.

Maybe he'll be able to return once they found Jason's killer. Maybe. He doesn't let himself hope.

He thumbs through his phone, more to keep himself occupied than because he's actually looking at the screen. But then he trips over Kevin's number and just stares at it. He should probably delete it. It will only remind him of all the things he cannot have. But as he hovers over the delete button, he cannot bring himself to press it. He huffs, annoyed, before turning his phone off. He shouldn't make any more hasty decisions today. Slinking further into his seat he lets his phone drop in his bag, then presses the back of his head hard into the headrest.

 

It's been four months. Four months of keeping his head down, trying to keep himself afloat with the odd side job, trying to keep himself occupied. Then one day, the friend he had been staying with had thrown a news paper in his face. And on page five there was a tiny article about Jason's murder having been found guilty (though not executed due to Blossom's suicide) and FP's conviction for the assistance in Jason's murder. No mention of Joaquin, no call for information on others involved.

So he packs his things and boards the next train back to the only home he had ever known. His trailer looks just like he had left it. Except for the cabinet door having been repaired. He stops short, staring at it.

Then he turns on the spot and heads back out. He finds himself in front of Kevin's house. It looks just like the last time he'd climbed the facade to surprise Kevin. Only now he notices his bike parked on the front lawn, and he rushes over to it. The bike was one of the few things he had really regretted leaving behind. But it looked well kept, even felt a bit warm still when he strokes over the saddle. He honestly hadn't expected Kevin to keep it when he left. Then he turns to the front door.

Taking a deep breath he steals himself for what he's about to do. The doorbell rings loudly inside the house.

He can hear rustling behind the door and his heart gets stuck somewhere in his throat. Then the door opens and he finds himself face to face with Kevin's dad.

“Hello, Joaquin,” the sheriff says. No smile, barely an acknowledgment that he knows Joaquin.

“Hello, Sheriff Keller. Is your son home?” The sheriff doesn't look surprised, just a little wary, looking Joaquin over sharply. Then he opens the door to Joaquin and the young Serpent releases the breath he had been holding. Relief rushes through him at the final confirmation that he is not implicated in Jason's murder investigation.

“Kevin! There's someone here for you!” The sheriff yells towards the stairs, then he turns back toward the living room. Joaquin just stays fixed in the hallway, listening to the opening of a door upstairs and the creaking of the stairs as Kevin descends.

“Who is it, dad? You know-” Kevin stops dead in his tracks when he sees the other boy at the bottom of the stairs. Joaquin tries for a little smile, hoping he doesn't look as nervous as he's feeling.

“Hey there, preppy. Long time no see.” Kevin just gapes at him, his eyes wide, one hand flailing a bit. But he doesn't move and it puts Joaquin even more on edge. What if he miscalculated? What if Kevin doesn't even want to see him again? What if Joaquin was the only one who's been missing the other boy the past four months?

His smile falters the longer Kevin stays silent and he's on the verge of just turning around and forgetting this ever happened when he is suddenly enveloped in a crushing hug. His face is smushed into Kevin's shoulder, strong arms wrap around his torso, hands seize Joaquin's jacket too tightly. And Joaquin takes a deep breath before he returns the hug, his hands settling flat on Kevin's back, pressing himself even further against the other's body. Kevin's head is curved down, nuzzling into Joaquin's neck. Joaquin can feel the little gusts of breath whenever Kevin exhales and finally an impossibly quiet: “God dammit, Joaquin.”

Joaquin makes a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sniffle and buries himself deeper in Kevin's arms. “I've missed you too,” he admits quietly.

Suddenly Kevin disentangles himself from Joaquin, holding him an arm's length away. “Then why the fuck didn't you answer my texts? Or my calls? Or let me know some other way that you were okay? Fuck, I've been driving myself crazy, hoping you were just busy and not dead in a ditch somewhere!”

Joaquin glances furtively toward the living room where Kevin's dad is undoubtedly listening to them, then back at Kevin. He owes Kevin an explanation and an apology, he knows that, but he didn't exactly want to have an audience for the occasion.

“Can we- I mean, not here?” he stammers, glancing back toward the living room and Kevin must understand, because he grabs Joaquin's wrist and practically drags him up into his room. There he lets go of Joaquin's arm and Joaquin immediately misses his touch.

He wraps his arms around himself, feeling a bit lost. He's been in this room so many times but it doesn't feel like he's welcome anymore. He shakes his head.

“I- I'm...” he starts, stops, looks away from Kevin, takes a step further into the room, stops, then takes a deep breath. “I'm sorry. For not answering and not calling you back. I had to ditch my sim as soon as I arrived so nobody would be able to trace me. And I couldn't risk them finding out you had my number and-” he doesn't finish the thought, but he doesn't have to. They both know what Serpents are willing to do. “I couldn't risk it as much as I wanted to. I know it's not good enough but it's all I can say.” He looks back up at Kevin. The other boy looks stricken but not angry anymore. “You were already in too much danger, because they knew I liked you,” he adds faintly.

Kevin draws himself up at that. “Liked? Past tense?”

Joaquin laughs. “I'm here, aren't I? Barely arrived I came straight for you. What do you think?”

Kevin chuckles as well when he teases: “Well, not exactly straight, ain't it?”

And Joaquin punches him playfully. “You should be embarrassed for how predictable that was.”

“Oh should I now?” Kevin says, smile still stretching his mouth wide and something aches deep inside Joaquin. “And how predictable was this?” he asks before stepping into Joaquin's space, grabbing onto his face with both hands and pulling the surprised boy into a deep kiss.

Joaquin grabs onto the first thing his fingers reach which is Kevin's shirt, clinging to the fabric like it's the only thing keeping him afloat. He lifts himself onto his tip toes to reach better, kissing back with fervor. Their teeth click together when Joaquin pulls on Kevin's shirt and the taller boy loses his footing a bit, almost falling into Joaquin. But it doesn't stop them from devouring each other. Kevin's thumbs stroke the space behind Joaquin's ears, while his hands hold him as if he's the most precious thing, and Kevin gentles their kiss until they mostly breathe into each other's mouths, leaving quick open mouthed kisses in-between panting breaths.

Kevin starts carding through Joaquin's hair with his left hand, pushing loose strands behind his ear while he continues to pepper Joaquin's mouth with short and sweet kisses. Eventually he pulls back a bit, just looks at Joaquin for some time as if he's savoring him. He lets his hand move down Joaquin's side until he can interlink their fingers. His smile makes him look like a lovesick puppy but Joaquin is under no illusion that he doesn't look just as sappy.

“Are you back for good now?” Kevin asks breathlessly.

“For as long as you want me,” Joaquin replies and he doesn't care how cheesy he sounds because it makes Kevin lean back in for another kiss and he could never argue with an outcome like this.


End file.
